


Je suis désolé

by bukkunkun



Series: The Player's Adventures in Offland [6]
Category: OFF (Game), OFF (Video Game)
Genre: Apologies, Body Worship, Jealousy, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Other, Rough Sex, Roughness, i didn't intend for this to happen i swear to god, i'm so sorry it turned out dubcon/noncon-ish, oh my god i hope this doesn't trigger anyone /sobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 11:45:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukkunkun/pseuds/bukkunkun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Player had intended, at first, just to get to the area where they were pulled into the game at first, but then a sudden realisation stopped them as they passed the gate out back home—back in The Room, they had another chance to talk to the Guardians, and the Player remembered how shocked they were to find that Dedan wasn’t as big a jerk as he actually was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. After the End

**Author's Note:**

> Written (most embarrassedly) for a prompt on jerkin_off.

There was something wrong with his Player, ever since from the start. Batter knew this, and he couldn’t tell why. Ever since Zone 0, where they first met, they had been a little awkward.  Sure, they were nice, smiling brightly and completely gung-ho about their mission, but there was just something so strange about his Player, something _off_. It would seem as if they knew what they were doing, breezing through the puzzles the Judge gave them and acing the fighting tutorial without so much as an explanation from the Judge first. It was odd, like as if they already knew what they were doing.

When they were alone together, his Player would avoid him. Their eyes would stray away from him, and when he would talk to them, they would laugh awkwardly, and refrain from even so much as _touching_ him.

It was _infuriating_ him. His Player was being so distant from him, it wasn’t right! Sure, they performed well together in battles against the spectres in the Elsen village, but the moment that was over, they would scoot away and wander around, looking around for something or other, leaving the Batter behind, confused, as he stood there awkwardly by himself, holding the credits they won after the battle.

Grumbling after their most recent scuffle in the mines in Damien, the Batter stomped up to his Player’s side and unceremoniously shoved the credits into their pockets.

“What’s the matter with you?” he growled, making them jolt and gasp in surprise, as he backed them up against the wall, propping his arms on either side of them so they couldn’t get away. “You’ve been acting so strange, ever since we met!”

“Wh-what do you mean, Batter?” his Player replied, and _there_ , the Batter saw, their eyes shifted, from left to right, and his anger grew in heat. He growled at them and they whimpered, covering their head defensively—and the Batter froze, when he realised he had raised his hand, curled tight around his bat.

His eyes widened and he took a step back, dropping his bat. He had almost hurt his Player. He had almost _hurt his **Player**_.

“B-Batter?” they asked, as he backed away from them, shaking his head.

“N-no, I’m sorry, I, I almost hit you—”

They smiled at him, a small, sad smile, like as if they had seen so much, had so much to say, but kept it all in anyway. “No, it’s fine.” They softly told him, helping him onto his feet. “I was being an idiot.” They replied, “It’s just that… this world’s a little… weird compared to home.” They explained, taking his hand in theirs and patting it. “I’m seriously creeped out.”

“… Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.” He assured them, and they looked up at him, smiling that same old knowing smile.

“… I know.” They nodded, and turned to leave, when he held on to their hand, tugging on it. His Player turned to look at him, a questioning look on their face, as he stared them down resolutely.

“Then don’t look anywhere, but here.” He said, lifting their hands in his, and pressing it against his chest. “Just look at me. I… I don’t like it when you look anywhere else.”

His Player blinked at him, their eyes wide, but then they laughed lightly, shaking their head. “You sappy weirdo.” They chuckled, looping their arm around the Batter’s. “Let’s get moving.”

A slight smile made its way onto his lips as he picked up his bat first, before the two of them walked on through the mines.

* * *

The Player felt their heart calm down after that. The Batter had almost caught onto what they were up to, what with all their looking-around and such.

The restart wasn’t that difficult, in the end. They simply had to climb through the credits rolling down, and when it was over, the start screen would come up in their mind and they would simply choose the “New Game” option.

The start was just like how they saw it outside the laptop—except this time, they were in Zone 0, and the Batter materialised right in front of them. They had almost broken down then, eyes wide with tears and a cry of joy ready to escape their lips, when the Batter simply nodded at them, and had said, “ _So you’re my Player. It’s a pleasure to meet you_.”

The Batter, of course, had forgotten about all that happened in the end of the game—rather, he hadn’t experienced it yet; not the roller coaster, not all the pedalo riding they did, not the jokes they had shared about the Add-Ons, not the scuffles they got into during their purification of the Zones, not the death of Valerie, not the defeat of the Guardians and the Queen, not the murder of Hugo, not the Judge’s betrayal, and most especially not his transformation.

Like a clean slate, everything was wiped. Everything, gone.

Tears burned their eyes, but they closed them, keeping them back—the Batter they knew was still the same one they had their arm around, but at the same time he wasn’t—he wasn’t the one they put a bandage on, he wasn’t the one who strangled them into the game, he wasn’t the one who tried healing them with a Luck ticket, he wasn’t the one who rode three rides on the roller coaster with, he wasn’t the one they tied a neck tie to, he wasn’t the one who held their hand, exasperated at their lack of shape as they ran away from Enoch, he wasn’t the one who became a monster to protect them from the Judge, he wasn’t the one who held them close as the end drew near. He wasn’t _the one_.

But he was still their Batter, and them, the Batter’s Player.

And with that thought, they nodded to themselves and kept walking.


	2. Dedan

“Batter,” the Player spoke up, turning to look over their head to address the Batter, who was poring over the clues they had scribbled down on paper to piece together. Having played the game through once already, the Player knew exactly what numbers to use to get to which floors, but they still went through all the puzzles in order to keep up the guise that it was their first time. They came all this way for a reason, after all, and a cute little replay wasn’t really it.

Their Batter, ever so obedient, and now a lot calmer than before, looked up to attention. “Yes?” he asked.

“Before we get to the Director’s Office, I… I have to get to the roof for a bit. Get some fresh air, talk to the Judge for a bit.”

“I’ll go with you. We’ll look these over there.”

“N-no, it’s fine,” they shook their head, “This one’s… a bit… _personal_.”

They felt bad, lying to their trusting Batter like this, but bypassing one of three gates back home was something they had to do in order to get _this_ done. Well, _personal_ _reasons_ weren’t that much of a total lie, anyway.

The Batter blinked at his Player, and an embarrassed flush spread across his cheeks. “… Right.” He nodded, stepping back to allow the Player to get into the elevator. “I’ll come right up there when I get this code down, alright?”

Nodding weakly, the Player smiled at him for a bit, and with a small wave to their Batter, closed the doors of the elevator, before punching in the floor they had really wanted to get to: 6-8-1-4-5-2.

Swallowing, the Player stood back as the elevator lurched to life, and started moving up.

* * *

The Player had intended, at first, just to get to the area where they were pulled into the game at first, but then a sudden realisation stopped them as they passed the gate out back home—back in The Room, they had another chance to talk to the Guardians, and the Player remembered how shocked they were to find that Dedan wasn’t as big a jerk as he actually was.

A little flush crossed their cheeks in embarrassment, as they shook their head to clear it. It was rather embarrassing, really, the thought of going through the area again just to apologise to the man, but their actions (theirs and the Batter’s, anyway,) seemed ridiculously brutal for some guy who just cracked under the pressure of running a Zone by himself.

With that thought, the Player steeled their resolve as the elevator stopped. Swallowing cautiously, they stepped out of it and into the corridor. They passed the save box, and headed up to Dedan’s office door.

Grinning slightly, they remembered how adamant the Batter was at keeping them out of trouble, so much as keeping them outside Dedan’s office, but now that the Batter wasn’t there, it was only just the Player and the door.

Taking a deep breath, the Player knocked twice, and entered the door, to see Dedan standing at his desk, a glare pointed right at the door.

“… Hi,” the Player meekly greeted, closing the door behind them, and Dedan’s glare changed to that one of confusion.

“… You’re not the Batter. Who are you?” he demanded immediately after recovering from his confusion, pointing a sharp-nailed finger at them threateningly, and the Player immediately raised their hands defensively.

“Hey, let’s just take this calmly, buddy,” they spoke up, smiling weakly, and suspiciously, Dedan stared them down, but eventually lowered his hand. “… Okay. I’m the Player.” They explained, “I, uh. I control the Batter’s actions.”

Dedan’s anger flared up again.

“So you’re that punk’s sidekick!” he roared, and the Player wildly shook their head.

“N-not really!” they replied, “Uh, if anything, he’s _my_ sidekick, since, uh, I do control him…”

“So I’ve got to kill _you_!”

“H-hey, wait! That’s not fair! I’m not armed!” the Player defended, “And, um, well, there was something I wanted to tell you.”

Dedan calmed down slightly, more confused now than angry. “What’re you getting at?”

“Well, later, after this, we’re going to defeat you—hey, calm down and listen to me!” they yelled, when Dedan, enraged, got ready to launch himself at the Player, “And, well, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“… You’re sorry?”

“I… I finished this game, I know what happens in the end,”

“That Batter is a monster.”

“Yes, I know,” the Player replied, “And I sided with him anyway,” at this, Dedan’s eyes widened in disbelief, but the Player continued, “But that’s not important right now. What is, is that I want to tell you that I’m sorry for… for helping killing you, because I didn’t know that you were such a nice guy before, and… well…” they fell silent, embarrassed.

“… You’re apologetic? That’s it? A ‘sorry’?”

The Player blinked. “… Yes?” they ventured, but Dedan crossed his arms, a lecherous grin spreading across his face, and realisation dawned on the Player’s. “… Oh, it’s not enough.”

Dedan nodded.

“… Well…” they frowned, thinking about it for a moment, but then a small blush crossed their face. “… I’m willing to do _anything_ as a sorry, really.”

“Anything?”

The Player nodded, and suddenly they realised Dedan was standing right up close to them, his large form dwarfing theirs easily.

“Well, then, why don’t you show me how sorry you are?” Dedan asked, “With some of _this_?”

He reached down and gave the Player’s arse an appreciative squeeze, and an involuntary squeak escaped the Player’s lips.

“You make sweet noises, too. So why don’t you? You’re a much better specimen than all those Elsens, anyway.”

The Player looked up at him, and slowly nodded. “… Alright.” They replied in a half-whisper, a hesitant quiver in their voice, as slowly they got on their knees in front of Dedan.

“Start with my shoes, little bitch,” he smirked, walking to his desk and heavily sitting down on his chair. “And crawl here.”

The Player did as they were told, crawling on hands and knees towards their temporary master, reaching the Guardian’s feet quickly. Before they could move, though, Dedan raised his boot to their chin and lifted it, forcing them to look up at him.

“And look at _me_ , and _me_ only. Got it?”

 _Just like the Batter_.

Silently, they nodded, and gently, they took the boot holding their chin up, and with their eyes still locked on Dedan’s, they tentatively gave the man’s boot a lick.

“Get to it, you little shit. I haven’t got all day.”

The Player shivered slightly, before getting to work, lavishing attention on the man’s boot with their tongue until it was shining with their spit, before turning their attention to the other boot, licking it to a shine, arse in the air.

At this, Dedan smirked, reaching over to give it a grope, and the Player let out a small moan against the leather of the Guardian’s boots.

“Getting off on boot-licking, bitch? You goddamn pervert.”

“I’m sorry, you’re just so amazing,” the Player replied on reflex, slowly moving up Dedan’s legs, lovingly caressing them with their hands as they pulled themselves up off the floor and into his lap, their hands wandering all over Dedan’s skin underneath his open coat. “So well-built, like a statue.”

“Keep talking.”

Smiling lightly, they began to softly pepper kisses all over Dedan’s exposed torso (only that; their new master hadn’t told them to take anything off, after all), uttering loving words to each inch their lips touched like a reverent player, as their hands smoothed over his clothes with a touch of a lover’s.

“Good, good.” Dedan nodded, smoothing his hand down the Player’s back and into their pants, reaching for their entrance and poking it with his long fingernail.

They let out a small whimper at the intrusion, burying their face into Dedan’s shoulder, but the Guardian growled at them, shrugging them off and letting them fall to their knees on the floor between his legs, his hand sliding out of their pants. “Don’t you wimp out on me, you little shit.” He growled. “Suck me off.”

Nodding, the Player sat up (ignoring the pain in their knees, where they landed rather heavily) and hastily unbuckled Dedan’s belt with shaky hands, and suddenly the Guardian’s cock sprang out from its bindings, hitting the Player’s cheek lightly, a light gasp of surprise escaping from their lips.

“It’s… _big_ ,” they breathed, wide-eyed at the large, hard throbbing cock in front of their face, and gently they ran their hands over the ridges on the Guardian’s cock, silently marvelling at its size and shape.

“I’m _waiting_ ,” Dedan growled, and they nodded quickly, before licking a long stripe up his cock, from root to tip. “Good,” he nodded, canting his hips forward to press his cock further against the Player’s face, successfully pushing it in their mouth. Messily, they sucked the large appendage as best as they could—it was far too big to fit in their mouth, and precum was leaking from its head, spilling out the corner of their lips, mixing with their drool that trickled down to their chin.

“You look like a fucking whore,” he commented, thrusting shallowly and grinning in gratification at the choking noise the Player made, grabbing a fistful of their hair to hold their head in place as he thrust a bit more, choking the Player as they sucked him off as best as they could. “Well, this isn’t nearly sorry enough. Let’s see how sorry your ass is.”

He smeared some saliva mixed with precum on his fingers, before reaching to behind the Player, slipping his hand in again into their pants and, without warning, roughly fingering their hole with his barely-lubricated fingers.

Their moans and gasps of pain and pleasure was muffled around his cock, but the vibrations were felt enough and they felt _good_. Groaning in pleasure, Dedan grinned down at the Player, still looking up at him (obedient little bitch, he thought, pleased, not like that goddamned Batter or those shit Elsens) as they sucked him off, tears running down their cheeks, also mixing in with the precum-spit mix.

When he deemed the Player ready (and by ready, he meant himself, and not the Player’s entrance) he pulled his fingers out not-too-carefully and pulled them off brusquely off his cock.

“I think you’re done worshipping that,” he told them, smirking, “Let your ass worship it this time.”

“Y-yes, please,” the Player choked out, and Dedan smirked.

“Good Player,” he growled, pulling them up by their hair and roughly bending them over his desk. “Hold onto anything or touch yourself and I’ll tear you apart.”

“Yes, Dedan.” The Player replied, looking at him over their shoulder. “Whatever you wish. I’m sorry.”

“Good.” He smirked, before sheathing himself into the tight entrance. He let out a hiss of pleasure— _God_ , this Player was _tight_. Without waiting for the Player to adjust, he began to thrust, deep, fast and unforgiving, earning him moans, gasps and garbled cries of his name, at first, and when he shifted angle and thrust even deeper, the Player was screaming out his name.

“De—Ded— _Ah_!—Oh, Dedan!”

”That’s right, you little shit,” the Guardian growled, “Scream like a whore for me.”

And much to his pleasure, the Player did, their walls tightening around him as they suddenly climaxed, their orgasm ripping through their body in a violent shudder. The pressure on his cock proved too much, and Dedan came into their hole, white semen trickling out of their entrance as he pulled out unceremoniously. He moved back, and let the Player drop to the floor, panting, their knees wobbling and still shaking from the high of orgasm.

“You came without touching yourself. Goddamn slut.”

“I’m sorry,” the Player repeated in between pants. “C-can you forgive me now?”

Dedan smirked, leaning into the Player’s face.

“No.”

Their eyes widened in shock and horror, as Dedan grabbed their wrists tight enough to bruise, and pulled them up and onto his table again, spreading their legs with his body, his still-erect cock pressing incessantly at their entrance.

“D-Dedan,” they gasped, but he paid no attention to them as he began to thrust again, strength unwavering, and still as violent as always.

Their moans turned ragged and grew into hoarse screams, and it sounded _beautiful_.

“Listen here, you dipshit,” he growled, looking right into the Player’s panicked eyes. “I don’t forgive you. Bastards who think they can march in here and think just pulling shit like this can get away with it piss me off so much.” He snickered. “You’re just like your precious Batter.”

“Ba-Batter!” the Player screamed, and Dedan laughed in their face, shaking his head.

“Oh, no, you left your Batter upstairs, didn’t you? Confident enough to leave him behind?”

The doors slammed open, and Dedan’s eyes widened upon seeing a familiar silhouette in the doorway.

“Let go of my Player this _instant_ or I will purify you without mercy.”

Clicking his tongue, Dedan pulled out of the Player and glared down at them.

“Enjoy shame, whore.” He spat at them, before teleporting away.

The Player did, at least, get to hear the Batter punching the wall so hard it cracked and chipped, swearing loudly in anger before rushing to their side, going on about leaving him alone and how stupid rushing forward was and how he had warned them about looking at only _him_ because of how jealous he was of everything they looked at, as they fell unconscious.

**Author's Note:**

> This is included in the series too, because chapter 1 is a direct continuation of fic#1, but chapter 2 is a divergence from the actual story.


End file.
